


Education

by sabinelagrande



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Community: wtf27, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-10
Updated: 2007-10-10
Packaged: 2017-10-05 06:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabinelagrande/pseuds/sabinelagrande
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"And it's risky and strange and scary as hell, but neither one of them tries to stop it."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Education

They stick him back in eleventh grade for the second time, based on some asinine rule that somebody dug up about literature classes (they say they have to be taught in English, Greg calls bullshit, Greg gets his first detention). His counselor, having no idea what to do with him, loads his schedule with busy work classes- marine biology, home ec, shop, typing. James watches Greg as he walks into driver's ed for the first time, watches him stare at his schedule like he can make it catch fire with his mind.

"Who can tell me the first step in passing another car?" the coach asks when the bell rings, not bothering with preliminaries. The freshman with the funny accent and the hardship license shoots his hand up, but Greg gets called on instead.

"Honk twice and floor it," Greg says, completely deadpan, but Coach is so uninterested in the subject that he just nods and moves on to his next question. James can't decide whether to write Greg off as the typical asshole, but he's oddly captivated.

It's textbook after that- James joins Greg in the cafeteria, Greg unapologetically steals bits of his lunch, James talks them out of half a dozen detentions, Greg mocks him when he screws up on his Latin homework. They spend probably too much time at James's house, his mother (convinced, inexplicably, that Greg is a good influence) supplying them with a neverending flow of cash and baked goods. Greg doesn't talk about his family, and that fact shouts volumes about it.

And then, completely out of nowhere, it changes. James is driving, winding his way through streets that make no difference, Coach sleeping against the window. Out of the corner of his eye in the mirror, he catches Greg with his hand halfway up the skirt of the bossy girl with the big tits who sits in front of them. She's trying to keep her calm, but her eyelids are fluttering and her mouth is gaping, and James (horrified at thinking it) can't decide if he'd rather kill her or be her.

They fight at James's that night- James doesn't remember what about when he thinks about it later, mostly just fighting for its own sake. Greg gets angry, criminally angry, and he shoves James up against the back wall of the garage so hard that James's teeth rattle. But James surprises him, pushing him back so he falls into the grass, James straddling him. Out of sheer contrariness, he pulls Greg to him by his hair, kissing him so hard it hurts, taking months of confusion and frustration out on him. And it's risky and strange and scary as hell, but neither one of them tries to stop it.

Life is terrifying and gorgeous all of a sudden, the secret strung between them changing everything and nothing. No one (no one female) seems to notice, at least publically. A mousey sophomore follows Greg around for a whole month, even when he tells her off in front of half of the twelfth grade. Of course, then she and the kid with the accent get caught in the broom closet, and the world goes back to normal. James breaks up with his girlfriend (third one this school year), and Greg has the decency to pretend that he doesn't know that he has anything (everything) to do with it.

They sneak down to the lake when it warms up again, swimming naked in the moonlight and not pretending to be ashamed about it. Greg doesn't talk about his bruises, and James doesn't ask, just lays his hand against his chest and tries to focus on his heartbeat.


End file.
